


Welcome, Ghosts

by Lila82



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13329573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lila82/pseuds/Lila82
Summary: Deran keeps his promise to Pope.(Or, a week in the life for Lena and her two dads)





	Welcome, Ghosts

 

* * *

 

**Sunday**

 

* * *

 

Adrian returns to Oceanside with a dislocated shoulder, the hint of a tan, and a plan to finish what he started. 

The former knocked him off the QS tour before he was ready, but the tan is flattering and he’s not worried about the last part. He saw the way Deran looked at him when he kissed him goodbye. He won’t have to try hard, or likely at all, to get what he wants. 

It’s a new feeling, calling the shots, but Adrian’s ready. He meant what he said that night in Deran’s bar. The man looking at him with eyes deep and blue as the ocean that brought them together – it’s been years, but that man is someone he recognizes, someone he remembers. 

He thinks that man is waiting for him.

  
  


He doesn’t go to The Drop right away. He needs a few minutes to himself, to shower and change and come to terms with the choice he made. Six months ago he would have kicked his own ass for letting Deran into his orbit again, but things are different now. He has to believe that they are. If he gets played again he’ll be a fool for it, but he can live with that. It’s not trying that he can’t live with.

He smokes half a joint to steady his nerves and grabs his keys. A month ago, he put an offer on the table. He’s ready to collect on it.

  
  


It’s after nine when Adrian finally arrives at the bar, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie to hide how much they’re sweating. It’s embarrassing but makes him smile a little. When they were seventeen, he had the same reaction to seeing Deran.

“Hey, I’m looking for Deran.”

The bartender looks up from rinsing glasses, forehead wrinkling as she studies his face. “You’re Adrian, right? Deran’s friend?”

Friend is a loose term for what he and Deran are to each other, but it works well enough. “That’s me.”

“I’m Heather.” She reaches down to grab a beer. “On the house.”

Adrian takes the beer, hoping the condensation makes his palms a little less clammy. “Thanks.”

“Deran had to run out, but you’re welcome to wait.” She gestures around the bar. 

It’s a Sunday night and the room is only half full. Adrian has his pick of empty chairs and tables. He also has his phone and some surfing videos he could watch, but he doesn’t want to sit by himself in a room full of strangers. If he’s going to be alone, he’d rather be in Deran’s space. If nothing else, he can see if he actually hung up the photo.

He feels nervous as he heads for the office, not unlike the last five years, always watching his back, always looking over his shoulder. He never knew who might see, what Deran might do if he thought someone knew. He finishes the beer in one long pull.

When he opens the door, he nearly trips over a little girl encased in a Disney princess sleeping bag. She blinks at the light and pushes dark hair off her face, watching him with enormous brown eyes. They shift from his face to the open door, the sadness in them making her look about eighty years old.

“Is it time to go?” Her voice is small and tired, so tired Adrian feels exhausted just from looking at her. She begins packing up her things before he has a chance to respond.

“Hey, hey,” he says. “We’re not going anywhere.” He smiles at her, hoping she can see it in the dim light. “I’m a friend of the guy who owns this place. I was looking for him is all.”

She nods, tiny hands gripping the sleeping bag tightly. “Uncle Deran says I need to stay back here when the bar is open.”

Adrian has a vague memory of a little girl on a mini-motorbike, Craig’s hulking form curled protectively in front of her. The pieces slide into place: the party at Smurf’s, the fight in the garage, saying the words that broke his own heart.

He turns his attention to the girl to keep from thinking more on that night. He never wants to think of that night again.

“I’m Adrian.” Her expression is a little wary and he realizes how he must look, looming over her in the doorway. She pulls back slightly as his shadow falls long and dark over her face. He crouches down and smiles at her. “You’re Lena, right?”

He’s not sure where he pulled the name from but he knows he got it right when she nods in response. “You woke me up.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” He gently closes the door and turns on the light. Lena winces, shielding her eyes from the sudden brightness. “Sorry about that too.”

She sighs, like the weight of the world is on her shoulders, and given the heaviness in her eyes, it might be. "It’s okay.”

Adrian stares at her a minute longer, searching for something to say. He doesn't have much experience with little kids, especially one like Lena. "So you’re staying here?” he finally asks.

She picks at the edge of her sleeping bag. “My daddy’s sick.” 

Baz is the brother with the wife and child, but Adrian doesn’t think Deran’s mentioned her. It was only by chance that he saw her that awful afternoon. There’s a story there, about what happened to Baz and why his daughter is sleeping on Deran’s floor, but Adrian doesn’t want to pry, especially not when Lena looks like any wrong word will make her cry.

“I hope he’s better soon.”

She shrugs and reaches for her backpack. “Can you read me a story?” It's disorienting, her sudden change in tone, but Adrian knows from experience not to question another person's coping mechanisms. He did spend the better part of two years letting Deran have sex with him in private and ignore him in public. He's not one to judge.

Lena rummages in the bag and holds out a book with a blurry sketch of the Eiffel Tower surrounded by yellow blobs. Adrian doesn’t particularly want to read her a story. He wants to wait for Deran, wants to be primed and ready the minute he walks through the door. He wants to make up for all that lost time. 

But Lena is sleeping in Deran’s office, surrounded by crates of liquor and overflowing boxes of receipts. And he did wake her up. It’s the least he can do.

“C’mon,” he scoots back against the couch and pats the space next to him. 

She obediently follows, draping her sleeping bag across her lap. She curls up next to him, her dark hair tickling his neck as she peers down at the book. The story isn’t so bad, something about a French orphan suffering from appendicitis, and Lena’s asleep by the time Adrian finishes reading. He's exhausted too and lets his head fall back against the couch to rest his eyes for a few minutes. 

When he wakes up, Deran is crouched in front of them, watching Adrian with an amused expression. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty.” 

Adrian groans softly, rolling his neck to get rid of the crick. “Hello to you too.”

Deran smiles, like he did their last night, hesitant and shy, but a smile nonetheless. It feels good, good enough to risk waking Lena, and Adrian manages to successfully extract himself from her grasp. He slowly pushes to his feet, hissing slightly at the pain in his shoulder. 

Deran’s brows knot. “You okay?”

Adrian breathes through the pain and rubs his shoulder. “Is there somewhere quieter?”

The only sound in the room is Lena’s breathing, but Deran gets the reference, his smile returning stronger and surer, and he gestures for Adrian to follow him. 

They end up out back, Deran smoking a cigarette while Adrian holds an icepack to his aching shoulder. It helps with the pain, but not so much the tension coiling under his skin. He watches Deran pace, watches the graceful movements of his body and the purse of his lips as they close around the cigarette. Each second stretches taut between them.

“Fuck it,” Deran finally says and drops the cigarette, grinding out the smoking butt beneath his sneaker. 

Deran stalks towards Adrian, but he doesn’t feel like prey as he’s thrown up against the wall. Deran’s grip is crushing, his mouth bruising, but Adrian doesn’t curl into himself. He sinks into the kiss, lets the icepack fall to the ground so he can tangle his hands in Deran’s hair, pulls him in closer as he rocks his hips and lets Deran feel how much he’s missed him.

He should probably be more worried about how willing he is to let Deran fuck him in a back alley behind a dive bar, but when he closes his eyes, he doesn’t see the man that broke into his house and cracked his ribs. He sees gold hair and blue, blue eyes and that shy, trembling smile. He should know better – he _does_ know better – so he pulls back, chest heaving as he rests his head against the wall.

“I guess someone missed me,” Adrian pants, wincing at the pain that’s returned to his shoulder. 

Deran picks up the icepack and hands it over, lighting another cigarette while Adrian presses the ice into place. He’s nervous, Adrian realizes, watching Deran fumble with the lighter. He knows the feeling. In the early days, he always needed something to do with his hands to keep from going crazy.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here? The QS just started.”

Adrian sighs. “I blew out my shoulder at Margaret River. By the time I could paddle out again, they were halfway through Bells Beach.” 

“That sucks.”

Adrian shrugs and immediately regrets it, pain lancing through his shoulder. “It’s probably for the best. I don't like being away from the shop.”

Deran stubs out the cigarette. “And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here and you’re on babysitting duty. What’s going on?”

Deran lights a third cigarette and the pacing resumes. Adrian waits, a different sort of tension coiling in his chest. _Smurf_. Nothing good ever comes from doing business with her.

“Baz got shot,” Deran finally says. “He’s in a coma and they don’t know if he’ll wake up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” He exhales deeply and takes another long drag. Dread sinks into Adrian’s gut, the easy camaraderie between them dissolving like that puff of smoke. If Deran ended up with Lena, it’s worse than he thought.

“So why is Lena staying with you? Where’s her mom?”

Deran shakes his head. “I’m all she has.”

There’s more to the story, but Adrian knows better than to push. A different kind of feral look is lurking in Deran’s eyes, the kind Adrian wants to forget. 

“She can't live in your office.”

“I’m doing the best I can.” The cigarette has burned to ash and taken the fight with it. Deran’s shoulders sag and exhaustion seeps into his gaze. 

Adrian knows better than to let him in, knows from experience how easy it is to lose himself in Deran, but he also knows he can't say no. He tells himself it's about Lena, about doing right by a lost little girl. He won't let himself accept that it's that look on Deran's face and wanting to make it better. “I have room. You can stay with me.” 

Deran blinks, a little life returning to his face as he weighs the offer. “I wasn’t looking for a handout.”

“It’s not charity – you’re staying with me.” Adrian reaches out to cup Deran’s cheek in his hand. Once, a black eye might have been his reward, but today is a different day – a new day – and Deran only closes his eyes and leans into the touch. 

“I’m giving you an out.”

“Goods in kind. You can make breakfast.”

Deran’s eyes open, a little haunted but full of promise. So is the gentle kiss he presses against Adrian’s mouth. “It’s a deal.”

He pulls away before it goes further, before they fall into old habits and ruin this tentative beginning, but Adrian feels it thrumming around them when they go to collect Lena.

This thing between them. It finally feels like it could be real.

  
  


Deran hovers on the threshold of Adrian’s house, his face hidden in shadows. Adrian can’t see his eyes, just the strong curve of his bearded jaw and the dark fall of Lena’s hair. She hadn’t woken when Deran had plucked her from the couch or buckled her into the car and now, in the welcoming light of the front hall, she continues sleeping soundly against Deran’s shoulder. 

It’s her uncle that can’t seem to steady himself, his fingers tapping nervously on his thigh as he peers into the house. It might the forced domesticity of what they’re doing, or memories of their last night in this place: the broken window and the harsh words, the way Deran wouldn’t fully look at Adrian even though he’d been inside him.

Rather than think on it, Adrian focuses on getting them all to bed. He was in another time zone the day before, another hemisphere on the opposite side of the world, and it’s catching up with him. He and Deran need to sit down and talk this through, but it can wait. They’re both exhausted and likely overwhelmed. He doesn’t want either of them saying something they’ll regret.

“You coming?” Adrian starts down the hall to the spare room, motioning for Deran to follow him.

His house is small, but it has two bedrooms, and he services the owner’s boards for free so he rents at a steep discount. The second room isn’t much –, a futon, a bookcase, extra wax and leashes – but there’s more than enough room for a little girl and her meager possessions. He makes a mental note, while Deran deposits Lena on the futon and covers her with the unzipped sleeping bag, to pick up essentials in the morning.

“I’ll take the couch.” Deran leans against Lena’s closed door after they've put her to bed, arms crossed over his chest. He looks a little nervous but his gaze doesn’t waiver. He simply stands there and waits, far more patiently than Adrian thought him capable.

Adrian could play it differently. He could invite Deran to share his bed, even if just to sleep. With a quick shake of his head, he could have what he wanted that long month he was gone. 

_"Slow,”_ he reminds himself, he needs to take this slow. That kiss behind The Drop was a start but anything further needs to be put on hold until the jet lag isn’t kicking in, until there’s no longer a small child sleeping in his guest room, until he can be around Deran and trust that he’ll make the right decisions.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Deran smiles, that shy smile from earlier in the night, but it trembles a little less. “I’ll be here.”

Adrian sleeps soundly and he doesn’t think it’s the after effects of a nineteen- hour flight through eight time zones. Deran said he'd be there the next morning. Adrian believes him.

 

* * *

 

**Monday**

 

* * *

 

It might be the jet lag, or the anticipation pulsing in his veins, but the next morning, Adrian wakes with the dawn. His room is filled with the soft gray light of early morning, the kind of light that makes everything a little hazy, a little like a dream. 

They had mornings like this in Belize, slow, easy mornings, when Deran would smile at the sun and laugh in anticipation of the waves. Adrian was always up first on those days, sneaking a few moments to watch Deran sleep, to watch him open his eyes and greet the day. Back then, even hundreds of miles from home, he was never really sure Deran would be there when he woke up.

Deran’s on the couch when he pads out in the hall, hugging a pillow to his bare chest while he sleeps. Adrian takes a moment to drink it in. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Deran like this.

It’s not yet 7:00, so he lets Deran sleep and goes to check on Lena, knocking softly so he doesn’t scare her.

"Morning."

"Morning," she says softly and closes her book, watching him with her big, sad eyes. It makes him uncomfortable, how sad she always seems. 

"Did you sleep okay?" he prods, trying to ease the awkwardness filling the room.

She shrugs. "I need to get ready for school." 

"Sure." Adrian pauses, trying to imagine what that entails and if he needs to be involved.

Lena unzips a duffel bag lying next to the couch and pulls out clean clothes and a toothbrush. "I need to take a shower."

Adrian studies her. He thinks she must be in elementary school, but she's so small. Is that something she can do on her own? "Uh, do you need me to help you?" 

She looks at him like he's an idiot. "I'm seven," she says, like it answers his question, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

"Right." Adrian clears his throat. "I'll let you get to it."

He shows her how to turn on the shower and points out the shampoo and soap and finds her a beach towel in the hall closet. He definitely isn't going to watch her shower, but he doesn't want to leave her alone either. If she falls, if she needs something – he should be there, right? He hands her the towel. "I'll be just outside."

"Okay," she says and shuts the door in his face. 

Adrian doesn't think it's more than five minutes before he hears the water shut off, and barely another five before she's stepping out of the bathroom, fully dressed with her long hair combed neatly down her back.

"That was quick." 

She starts for the spare room. "The water at the beach turns off fast." 

That sinking feeling takes up residence in his gut. Deran might be doing his best, but the kid's been sleeping on the floor and using public showers. Adrian's not happy to have lost his last shot at the QS, but it seems pretty minor in comparison to what Lena's been through. It also means he needs to talk to Deran sooner than later about this situation.

"Can you do my hair?" Lena comes out into the hall holding a hairbrush. 

"I'll can try," he says, gingerly taking the brush from her. 

She instructs him to sit on the futon while she kneels between his feet and explains how to comb her hair into a damp braid. She's even smiling a little when she comes back from checking her reflection in the mirror. 

"It's better than Uncle Deran, but not as good as mommy." Her small smile falls and she turns her gaze to her feet. Adrian thinks back to every fight he had with Deran. He knows that reaction too.

He doesn't know what happened to Deran's sister-in-law, but he also isn't going to look for answers in a seven-year-old girl. Wherever Baz's wife is, whatever happened to her, that story will also have to wait. 

He also doesn't know how to comfort a little girl whose mom disappeared, but he thinks he might be able to distract her. "Wanna read a story?" He reaches for the book she left on the floor. 

Slowly, and dragging her feet the entire way, she sits next to him on the futon. She’s silent when he starts the story, but Amelia Bedelia is funny – even he can admit it – and by the time they finish the book, Lena's laughing at her antics.

"This is becoming a regular thing." 

Adrian glances up to find Deran leaning against the door frame, watching them with soft eyes. Adrian knows not to over think it, Deran just woke up and his brain is sleep-clouded, but he still thinks it's something else. The way Deran's eyes linger on his face – there's nothing drowsy about it.

Lena puts the book in her backpack. “I’m hungry.”

Deran laughs and yanks on Lena’s braid. “Race you to the car.”

IHOP is the only place Adrian knows that’s both open and serves breakfast, and he figures the menu has enough options to make everyone happy. Deran sits next to him, arm stretched wide across the back of the booth, like they’re still sixteen and cutting class after a long session on the waves. His hair is longer and the beard is new, but drinking coffee with too many sugars, laughing away his morning over bacon and eggs at IHOP, Adrian can almost pretend that nothing’s changed.

Almost but not quite.

They’re in The Drop’s parking lot, picking up Deran’s car so he can drive Lena to school, when Deran leans through Adrian’s open window and shoves a wad of cash in his face. 

It’s like old times again, the times he wants to forget, when Deran had too much money and no explanation of where it came from. When Adrian came back from the tour, he’d hoped to never see that version of Deran again.

Adrian freezes, heart in his chest like that day J found them at the beach, afraid of what Deran might do next and who was going to suffer for it. “I don’t need your money.”

Maybe Deran grasps the familiarity of the situation, or maybe he was planning to explain all along, but he clarifies his intentions. "I run a dive bar. A lotta times, we get paid in cash. I appreciate you letting us crash at your place, but I’ll pay my own way.” He gestures for Adrian to take the money. “You can cover room, but not board.”

It doesn’t feel like before. Deran isn’t trying to buy him off, or fix a mistake he never should have made. He’s trying to to the honest thing – the _right_ thing – and how can Adrian say no when it’s what he’s wanted all along?

“Thanks.” Their hands brush when Adrian takes the money, a half-second touch, but long enough for something to spark between them. Deran’s face is only a few inches from his own, close enough to kiss. 

Adrian clears his throat. “I was heading to the store anyway, so thanks. I appreciate it.”

Deran sticks his hands in his pockets, smiling sheepishly, like he’s surprised by his own good deed. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, tonight.” 

He’s just confirming what they already know but to Adrian it feels like something else. It feels like progress.

  
  


The day that passes is uneventful. Adrian goes grocery shopping and stops by Target for sheets and towels. He grabs an extra toothbrush for good measure, dumping his purchases on the couch before crawling into bed and falling into a deep sleep. He feels moderately more alive when he shakes himself awake in late afternoon. 

There are no messages when he checks his phone, but he isn't disappointed. Deran has a full time job and a newly full time child, and texting was never their thing anyway. He gets dressed and drives over to see Deran in person. Showing, not telling – that was always more their style.

When he shows up at The Drop, Lena's doing her homework and Deran seems to be balancing a million things at once, slicing lemons and pouring drinks and stacking glasses without missing a beat. It's impressive, attractive too. 

Deran looks up as Adrian approaches the bar, a slow smile curving his mouth. “Hey,” he says and grabs the rag hanging over his shoulder.

“Hey.” Adrian feels like an idiot but watching Deran doing honest work, the tendons in his forearms flexing while he wipes down the bar – his mind goes blank.

It's crowded and noisy all around them, but standing with only the bar between them, eyes locked on each other's faces, Adrian feels like they're the only people in the room. He doesn't know how long they stay like that – a minute, an hour, only a few seconds – before Deran signals for Heather to take over and Adrian follows him to the back alley, still a little dazed.

Deran also seems shaky when he lights a cigarette, leaning back against the wall next to Adrian and blowing smoke in the air. Adrian watches the sky grow darker and rubs the ache out of his shoulder while he waits. Whatever the reason they came outside, it's not for a quick smoke. 

“I need to tell you why Lena's with me.” Deran jumps right into it, rushed and without preamble and so much like they were when they were kids. But they're not teenagers anymore and there's a nervous edge to Deran's voice that was never there before. “She’s here because Pope asked. I wanted you to know in case he comes around asking for her.” 

An icy shiver creeps down Adrian's spine at the mention of Deran’s most volatile brother. “Is he going to throw me in the ocean if I do something he doesn’t like?” 

Deran flinches. _Good_. Deran should know how it felt for him for all those years.

“I deserved that.” 

Adrian doesn't respond. He's not giving Deran absolution that he hasn't earned. 

"Say something. Please." 

It's the crack in Deran's voice that does Adrian in. He sighs, hating himself a little for being unable to just walk away. “Why would Pope be looking for her?”

“Whenever I asked him to do something for me, he did it. He never asked who, or why, he just did it, because he was my brother and I asked.” The cigarette has burned to ash, bits smoldering at Deran’s feet. He’s taken on his “Deran pose,” the hunched shoulders and hands shoved in his pockets, the long fall of his hair hiding whatever emotion is lurking in his eyes. “He never once asked me for anything in return. Except this.” His voice is a gravely rasp. “I couldn’t say no.”

Adrian wants to let it go. He can hear the shame in Deran's voice, _feel_ the weight of his regret, but Adrian carried that same weight long enough. Deran’s reign of terror is over, but that doesn’t mean it ended. Adrian can't forget the night Dave called frantic and half-dead and the guilt was so intense he thought he might drown in it. 

“He owes me an apology.”

“I don’t know where – ”

“ _You_ owe me an apology.” Adrian realizes he isn’t interested in whatever Pope has to say. He's an asshole, but the man was an instrument in his brother’s scheme. It’s Deran that needs to atone. 

Adrian catches Deran’s chin, not bothering to be gentle. He twists savagely to make Deran look at him, to see all the anger that’s lived inside him for too long. “You don’t get to hide from this. Your brother might be a sociopath, but you’re the one that sent him after Dave.” Deran stiffens, but Adrian doesn’t give in. He crowds forward, takes up all the space. “Whatever Pope did, you’re the one I blamed.”

It's a long minute before Deran responds, his voice small but his gaze direct. Adrian's doesn't think he's seen him look so brave. "And now?"

That’s it, all Adrian needs to see. The Deran of old would have spewed a string of curses and made excuses, but this Deran stands patiently, waiting for whatever punishment he thinks he's due.

The fight slips away and in its place Adrian feels tired: tired of fighting, tired of patterns repeating, tired of always wondering if this is the time that someone actually dies. "I don't want to do this anymore," he says. 

Deran's face goes blank and he sucks in a harsh breath. "So this is it." He tries to slip away but Adrian's quick and he catches him before he can get far, maneuvers his body so Deran’s back is to the wall.

"You didn't let me finish." Adrian is surprised by the hardness in his own voice, all the years of lies and bitterness rising to the surface. He doesn't hold back. "The back and forth, hiding and fighting and fucking and doing it all over again? I'm done with that." He takes a step closer, so his chest pushes against Deran's, so their mouths are a hair's breath apart. "If we do this again, it's gotta be different. _You_ need to be different."

Deran swallows hard. "What do you want?"

"I want you to be good to me." He cups his hand around the back of Deran's head and tangles his fingers in his hair. "I want simple." He lets his mouth brush over Deran's. "I want something that lasts."

It takes a few seconds for Deran to react, to slide his hands down Adrian's sides and under the thick cotton of his hoodie. It's a few seconds more before his hands move again, slipping under Adrian's t-shirt so it's skin on skin. 

Adrian knows where this will go, the same place it always goes, and he's still not ready. He pulls away even as he wants to stay. "You should get back to work."

Deran gives him an incredulous look. "You wanna talk about work?"

Adrian doesn't want to talk about work. He doesn't want to talk about much of anything, not like he wants to touch and stroke and claim, but not today and certainly not here. He's done with sneaking around.

"I want you to go inside and do your job. Take care of that bar you worked so hard for. I'll feed Lena and get her to bed."

"Room not board – " 

"I want to." Adrian leans in and kisses Deran lightly, a promise of what's to come. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you at the house." 

As he collects Lena, Adrian contemplates Deran's choice of words. A house isn't a home, but maybe, if they get this right, it could be.

  
  


It's well past midnight when Adrian hears Deran come in. 

They had an easy night, him and Lena. He made her dinner, Kraft macaroni and cheese from the box, and watched her silently pick at her food. 

"Not hungry?" 

She looked at him mournfully. "It's not as good as my mom's."

He hadn't known what to say so he said nothing and felt grateful when she dumped her bowl soon after. It was agonizing sitting with her in that tense silence, her sadness radiating in waves and his helplessness sitting like a weight in his chest. No one so small should suffer that much.

Lena was quiet when he helped her with her math homework and read a book after, but she perked up when she saw her new sheets. The woman at Target said that "Moana" was popular and he dutifully spent Deran's money on the full collection of linens.

She dug through her backpack and pulled out a "Moana" book. "Will you read me a story?"

Adrian was exhausted. His shoulder ached and the jet lag had come back with a vengeance and he already read her a story, but he found he couldn't say no. Not when she was watching him with so much hope in her sad eyes. He read her a few chapters and tucked her in beneath her new "Moana" comforter. 

Before he fell into his own bed, he'd watched her sleep for a few minutes, noting the even cadence of her breathing and the smooth lines of her face. It felt good, he realized, to have helped her find a little peace. He hadn't wanted to tempt fate but he still wondered if it was also a sign of things to come.

He stirs when Deran climbs into bed wearing a pair of boxer-briefs and smelling faintly of toothpaste. He rolls over so he's pressed up against Adrian's back and buries his face in Adrian's neck. 

"Deran..." Adrian's tired and in pain, and it's not just his shoulder. Their fight from earlier hasn't fully healed and if they do this, Adrian's afraid it never will. 

"Shhh," Deran says, his breath ticking the short hairs at Adrian's nape. "I just want to sleep. Can we do that?"

In Belize, Adrian woke up with Deran every morning, but it was different back home. There were his brothers and Smurf and sneaking out Adrian's door in the dead of night so no one could see who he truly was. Adrian had hated it, but back then crumbs were enough. 

Now, he wants more. He wants everything and he especially wants this.

"Okay. Let's sleep." Tentatively, Deran sneaks an arm around Adrian but it isn't enough. Adrian tugs Deran in closer so they're pressed flush against each other. "Like this."

Deran presses a kiss to the back of his neck. "Like this."

Adrian smiles as he drifts off. He could get used to _this_.

 

* * *

 

**Tuesday**

 

* * *

 

Adrian is a light sleeper, so he chalks it up to the jet lag when Deran sneaks out of bed without him noticing.

He hears a light knock on the door and then the gentle creak as it opens, spotting Lena half-hidden behind the door when he cracks open one eye. "Uncle Deran says it's time for breakfast."

Adrian isn't sure what to expect when he joins Lena at the breakfast table. Whatever happened last night was definitely _something_ and he's not ready to face Deran before his first cup of coffee.

Lena nudges him and tugs on her damp hair. "Uncle Deran couldn't fix it for you?"

She shakes her head. "You do it better."

Deran mumbles something from the stove while Adrian motions for Lena to sit in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, Adrian watches Deran work. He's wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants while he concentrates on stirring the eggs. Adrian doesn't want to overthink it, but it's nice, having Deran in his house. It's exactly how he wants to start his day.

When he finishes Lena's hair, he gets up to pour a cup of coffee, letting his fingers drag down Deran's bare arm as he slides past him. He's always liked touching Deran, but he likes it more now that he can. 

"Sleep well?" Deran asks. He doesn't look up from the eggs but there's a rough edge to his voice that Adrian likes. Last night...Adrian isn't alone in knowing something's changed.

He lingers a moment behind Deran, just a brush of chest against back, but Deran's hand stills for half a second. "Best sleep I've had in weeks."

He returns to the table and checks over Lena's homework and pretends everything is normal when it's anything but. He can feel the air crackling around them and from the way Deran is looking at him, he feels it too.

A dopey grin quirks the corners of his mouth and he tries to hide it behind his coffee cup. They’ve never been those kind of people, the kind unafraid to show affection, and he feels like an idiot. Deran rolls his eyes in response, but not even his loose hair can mask the goofy smile on his face.

Lena’s gaze darts between them and Adrian wonders what she sees. “Adrian, is this your house?”

“Uh huh. What do you think of it?"

She ponders her answer for a few seconds. “I like it more now that I have my “Moana” sheets.” Deran’s brow furrows as he tries to figure out what she’s talking about.

Adrian smiles at her. “Glad you like them.”

She turns her attention to her uncle. “Is Adrian like Lucy?”

Adrian doesn’t know who Lucy is any more than Deran knows “Moana”, but it’s not hard to figure it out. If Baz is anything like Deran’s other brothers, fidelity isn’t a strong suit.

Deran puts down his mug, his expression more serious than Adrian’s seen in long time. His breath catches, wondering what Deran is preparing to say. 

“Adrian’s not like Lucy,” Deran says softly. “Adrian is…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Where I go, he goes, okay?”

Lena nods, eyes big and wide, but she doesn’t look sad. She looks serious, like she understands that if they try, if they put in the work, people can have more than what her dad gave her mom. “I like Adrian.”

Deran laughs. “I like him too.”

Adrian sips his coffee, too nervous to say anything at all. It’s all happening too fast and not fast enough, and he doesn’t want the moment to end. 

But he doesn’t need words to say what needs to be said. Slowly, he reaches across the table and takes Deran’s hand. He gives it a gentle squeeze; Deran squeezes back. 

  
  


When Deran gets home that night, Adrian is sitting on the back steps with the door cracked open so he can hear Lena if she needs anything. 

It’s about the last thing he thought he’d be doing when he got on the plane in Perth, but it’s not so bad. Lena doesn’t ask for much and when she opens up, she’s sweet, sometimes even funny. And taking care of her helps, even if he’s the only one that knows, to make up for what happened to Dave. 

Deran’s footsteps are heavy on the wood floor and he slumps more than sits next to Adrian on the steps. 

“Long day?” Adrian takes the beer he offers, twists off the cap and takes a long pull.

Deran drains half his beer in one swallow. “The shit never ends. At least with Smurf, we got a break between jobs.” He clenches his jaw. “Fuck.”

They've never declared Smurf off limits, but Deran knows how Adrian feels about her, and Adrian appreciates that Deran's thought about it, but he's done living in the dark. He needs to see Deran, all of him, if they want to move forward. "That shit, it’s who you are. If this is going to work, we can’t keep secrets from each other.”

“I want this to work.”

Adrian scoots over, so they’re sitting side by side, so if Deran wanted, he could rest his head on Adrian’s shoulder. He doesn’t mind anymore, propping Deran up. “So tell me about it.”

Deran talks. It makes Adrian dizzy, hearing so many words coming out of Deran’s mouth. He learns about Baz ripping off Smurf and the shooting and the missing money. Deran tells him about Craig running off to Vegas with his drug dealer girlfriend and Pope falling off the face of the earth. 

“Smurf is restless and soon J isn’t going to be enough.” He turns to Adrian, his expression fierce. “No matter what she says, she doesn’t get Lena. Understand?”

Adrian hears the old Deran in that ultimatum, but it no longer hurts. He doesn’t see a teenager trembling with hate and rage, but a man fighting to protect what’s his. It’s incredibly appealing.

“I get it,” he says, every nerve in his body trembling with want and need and something very much like love. He pushes to his feet and holds out his hand. “Come to bed.”

Without a word, Deran takes his hand and follows him inside. 

  
  


It’s different than before.

They’re quiet as they creep through the dark house, careful not to wake Lena, but Adrian expects things to change once they’re inside the bedroom, a battle of limbs and wills until Deran has him on his knees, panting in anticipation of that first burning stroke.

Deran’s gentle, almost timid. He traces the line of Adrian’s cheek before kissing him, soft and sweet, kissing him like he’s never kissed him before.

His touch is light when he slides his hands under Adrian’s shirt, tenderly brushing his fingers across his back.

Adrian should like it. It’s what he wanted, to take it slow and careful, for Deran to cherish their time together rather than hate himself for it. But tonight, he wants something that will linger tomorrow, a reminder that him and Deran together, it’s more than a dream.

“Deran, stop.”

Deran pulls back and even in the dim light, Adrian can see the concern etched into his face. “I though you wanted – ”

He pushes Deran so he falls back on the bed, kissing him as he crawls on top of him. “I want _you_.” He rolls his hips, so Deran understands just how much.

Deran growls and deepens the kiss, tugging so hard on Adrian’s hair that his eyes water. He blinks aside the tears and concentrates on Deran, that he’s here, in his bed, and that the look on his face is anything but ashamed.

They wrestle for dominance as clothes come off. Adrian knows he’ll feel it in his shoulder in the morning, but it seems like a small sacrifice in contrast to what comes next. 

They’ve never fucked face to face. He was always on all fours or bent over a piece of furniture, any position that meant Deran didn’t have to look at him. Tonight, Deran lays him out on the sheets and slides between his thighs.

“Is this okay?” It’s hard to see Deran's face with his long hair falling around it, but Adrian can hear it in Deran’s voice, how desperately he wants this to be good.

“Keep your eyes open.” Adrian kisses him, bites lightly on his bottom lip. “Otherwise, do what you want.”

Deran obeys. 

His movements are steady, his pace unrelenting. His hands are everywhere, touching and grasping, sweat beading at his temples. Adrian wraps his legs around him, pulling Deran in closer, driving him deeper. 

Deran never once looks away.

After, when they’ve both caught their breath, they slip into the shower together. The hot water soothes Adrian’s shoulder, but he likes the other stuff more: the slickness of Deran’s skin, the firm muscles under his fingers when he soaps up Deran’s chest, the light scratch of Deran’s nails on his scalp when he rubs in the shampoo. 

He likes how well they fit together and the sound of Deran’s moan when Adrian sinks to his knees with the water running down his back.

He likes that when Deran looks at him, he’s no longer afraid.

 

* * *

 

**Wednesday, Thursday**

 

* * *

 

They settle into a routine. They wake up, all three of them, and eat breakfast together before Deran takes Lena to school. After, he tumbles back into bed for a few hours while Adrian drags himself to work. 

He told Tao he'd be coming into the shop some time midweek and when he arrives he's relieved to see that not much has changed. With his shoulder busted he spends most of the day working the register and occasionally consulting on a board, taking advantage of the free time to read through the UCSD course catalog and choose summer courses. Overloading has lost its appeal now that he has new priorities . He wants time to spend on them.

Later that afternoon he picks Lena up from school and feeds her baked chicken and quinoa with vegetables for dinner. He'd had to call his mom to get the recipe, and endure her pointed comments about cooking for two and settling down, but it's worth it to see a smile – even a weak smile – on Lena's little face.

"It's good," she tells him. 

"I did okay?"

She nods and takes another bite of chicken. "But still not as good as mommy's."

Adrian hides his sigh with a swig of beer. Someday Deran is going to have to tell her the truth, but not today. He soaks up her sweet smile, glad she can hold onto it for a little while longer. 

That night, he reads her a few chapters of "Charlotte's Web" and tucks her in. 

He contemplates waiting up for Deran but the jet lag is still killer and anyway, Deran knows where to find him.

And he does, ripping at Adrian's clothes and nipping at his skin before flipping him onto all fours. 

It's rough and hard and goes by too quick, but it doesn't feel like before. It doesn't make Adrian feel guilty, or ashamed, or wonder what the hell is wrong with him for letting this man into his life. He feels loose and relaxed and a little bit sore. He flexes his toes, feels the burn all the way through his spine. It's the good kind of sore.

He can feel Deran watching him, can sense the question in his eyes: was it too much? Did I go to far? Did it remind you of before?

Adrian rests his cheek against Deran's chest and presses a kiss over his heart, feels as much as hears the breath Deran releases in a rush of relief.

He stays there all night long.

 

* * *

 

**Friday**

 

* * *

 

Deran calls frantic in mid-afternoon. 

That morning, Adrian's shoulder felt strong enough to begin working on boards again, and he slings off his mask when Tao pokes his head in to tell him there's a call.

He doesn’t need to ask who it is and he takes the cordless out back for a bit of privacy. "Everything okay?" 

"Where the hell have you been? I called like five fucking times."

Adrian digs his phone out of his pocket and sure enough, there are four missed calls from Deran. 

"You don't get to talk to me like that." He's as surprised as Deran by the words that come out of his mouth. Just a few months back he would have apologized profusely for something that wasn't his fault, but now? Now he wants to know what's wrong without Deran treating him like a punching bag.

Deran sighs. "I'm sorry, okay?" His voice sounds small and scared, so unlike Deran that it makes Adrian's heart break. When he asked for more, he didn't expect to get so much. "Lena's school called. I guess she's been acting out or something because –. They can't take her, okay? I know what I am, but she's family." Deran's voice trembles. "Family stays together."

"I'll be there," Adrian promises. He pauses, trying to imagine what's going through Deran's head. He might have broken loose, but he was raised by Smurf and her fucked up idea of what makes up a family. He wouldn't be at all surprised if Deran turned up with a roll of hundreds or a .380 to get the teacher off his back. He hope it doesn't come to that "Are you okay?"

"Just be there." 

Deran texts the time and address and Adrian leaves the shop in Tao's still capable hands. 

"Deep breaths," he says when he pulls up in front of the school and finds Deran pacing. 

"I'm glad you're here." Deran pauses, scuffing at the concrete with his sneaker. "I know I was a little harsh on the phone, but you could have said no." 

Adrian realizes what he's talking about, that awful argument from the day he likes to forget. _You're in charge. You made that clear._

He takes a step forward and tips up Deran's chin so he can kiss him. "I wanted to come." 

Even though they're in public, in full view of anyone looking, Deran doesn't push him away. Adrian takes advantage and sinks into it for a few seconds longer than he should for two people kissing in an elementary school parking lot. 

Deran looks a little sheepish when he pulls back. "I wasn't the best at school. I could use your help in there."

Adrian laughs, remembering the rare day Deran showed up for class before noon. "You ready?" Deran nods. "Then let's do this."

Lena's teacher, Mrs. Sanchez, doesn't seem to know what to make of them. There's Deran with his tats and long hair and Adrian with his flip flops and hoodie. Deran pulled his hair back in an attempt at formality, but Adrian didn't have time to change. He sits up a little straighter in his chair to compensate.

"I've left messages for two days," Sanchez says pointedly, her sharp gaze fixed on Deran. "I'm glad you could come in."

Adrian watches Deran's face to see how he reacts and sure enough his jaw clenches, but that's as far as it goes. Or as far as he lets it go. Adrian can practically hear Deran counting down from ten to keep his temper under control. 

"I'm here now." 

"You're Lena's uncle, yes?" Sanchez looks at Adrian. "And you are?"

"He's my partner," Deran says before Adrian can answer. "He's helping me take care of her."

"Yeah," Adrian says, a little breathless with wonder. "I'm his partner."

Satisfied with the results of her interrogation, Sanchez turns to the reason for the meeting: she's worried about Lena. "She's always been a quiet kid, but she's barely spoken a word in weeks. She doesn't play during recess, or participate in PE. Her schoolwork has been falling off too. I know she suffered quite a trauma, with her mother leaving and her father in the hospital..." Sanchez's tone changes into something kinder, almost motherly. "Are you talking about it at home, helping her process what she's been through?" 

It's absurd, the idea of a Cody talking through their emotions, and Adrian might have laughed at the suggestion if it wasn't so sad. Smurf raised five children to adulthood and none of them are particularly well-functioning. Adrian thinks of Lena and her sleeping bag in the back of Deran's bar. Even when they try, the Codys only seem to be good at failing. 

Deran shakes his head and sits back in his chair. His knee jiggles with a nervous shake.

Sanchez's expression softens. "It can be difficult to talk about things like this, especially when you've experienced the same trauma yourself." She looks at Deran. "I'm sorry about your brother." 

“Thanks.”

She continues. “We have people here that Lena can talk to. It would be good for her to discuss what happened with an experienced professional.”

The shake in Deran’s knee turns into a full on tremor. Adrian doesn’t know why he’s so upset when they both know Sanchez’s suggestion is what's best for Lena. He rests his hand on Deran’s knee, keeping his fingers loose but his palm steady. He wants Deran to know that whatever he's going through, whatever he needs, he'll be there with him.

“You don’t have to decide today, but I want you to know that the offer stands.” Sanchez smiles kindly. “You’re doing a good thing, Deran, but you don’t have to do it alone.”

Deran thanks her for her time and shoves the stack of pamphlets she offers under one arm. Adrian follows him to the parking lot, worrying at the way Deran's hands are twitching. Deran dumps the pamphlets into the backseat and pulls out his cigarettes, takes a long pull that seems to calm his nerves.

“Talk to me,” Adrian says. Whatever is going on, he can’t help if he doesn’t understand.

“Lena can’t talk to anyone.” Deran takes another long pull and then another. “If she says the wrong thing, it'll blow back on us.” He tosses the still smoldering cigarette across the parking lot. “It’s not fair. She’s a kid and she’s all fucked up in the head and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“We,” Adrian corrects him. “I’m part of this too.”

Deran shakes his head. “Smurf, man. None of us stood a chance.”

Deran's right. If the school thinks something’s off, they’ll report it to the police. Deran could lose custody of Lena or end up in jail. She could end up in a group home. Adrian doesn’t want any of those options but he also wants what’s best for her. He’s so, so tired of those sad eyes.

“We’re going to talk to her tonight,” he says. “We explain what she can and can’t say and why she has to follow our rules.” He doesn’t like asking a seven-year-old to lie but he can’t think of another option. His life would be easier if it was just him and Deran, but he’s learned something these last few days. Deran – _this_ Deran – isn’t going to let Lena go. She came as part of the package and Adrian can’t change the terms now.

“You think it will work?” 

“I think it has to.”

Deran shoves his hands through his hair and groans. “Being a parent fucking sucks.”

Adrian laughs. “You’re better at it than you think.”

“I wasn’t until you showed up.” 

“I’m here to stay. I’ll help you as long as you need.”

Deran looks like he wants to say something, something important, but he settles for a kiss instead. His mouth is warm and tastes vaguely of cigarettes, but it also tastes familiar, like the sun and the waves and long, lazy days in Belize. Adrian pulls Deran closer and loses himself in the kiss.

Lena finds them still wrapped up in each other, arms crossed over her chest while she waits for them to notice her. She pretends to frown but Adrian still sees the smile – the first _real_ smile – that he’s seen from her. 

It makes him want to stay forever.

  
  


They take her for pizza and let her order whatever she wants, even a Hawaiian pizza with pineapple and ham. "Like Moana," she says and slurps down her orange soda.

Deran takes a long sip of beer and rests his head on the back of their booth. "Lena, we need to talk to you."

She swirls her straw around her glass. “I know. Daddy only lets me have orange soda when something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Deran says quickly.

“Am in trouble?”

Not for the first time, Adrian feels the urge to punch in Baz’s face. There doesn’t seem to be anything in Lena’s life that cuts her a break. “You’re not in trouble.”

"Is Daddy in trouble?" Deran mutters a curse under his breath and Lena’s eyes widen. “You’re not supposed to say that word.”

Deran curses again and Adrian kicks him under the table. “Just this once, it’s okay.” He looks at Deran, hoping it prompts him to start the conversation. “Your Uncle Deran has something to say.”

Adrian kicks him again so he stops stalling. “I met with your teacher today, Mrs. Sanchez? There’s a lady at school that she wants you to talk to about your dad.”

Lena shakes her head. “I’m not allowed to talk about Daddy at school.” 

Deran looks at Adrian. “This was your idea.”

Adrian rests his elbows on the table and leans forward. He read once that it creates a positive rapport and right now he needs all the help they can get. “Lena, we know this is a confusing time for you and we want you to be able to talk about it. So we’re going to make a list of things we can and things we can’t talk about. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great.” He holds up one finger. “First rule on the list is we don’t talk about the list.” 

“Seriously?” Deran asks.

Adrian ignores him and holds up another finger. “Second rule – we don’t talk about your dad or your uncles’ jobs.” She nods, big eyes solemn and intent. “Third rule, you talk about how you feel, whatever you feel.” She waits for another rule, but Adrian rests his hand on the table. “That’s it.” 

Deran has something to say as well. “Don’t go blabbing about what happens at Grandma Smurf’s, but whatever shit is making you sad, you talk about it. Understand?”

“You said a bad word again.”

“Lena, do you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” Deran settles back in his seat and promptly blows a straw wrapper at her. 

Lena stares at him, the paper caught in her messy braid, before picking up her own straw and blowing the wrapper in his face. Deran laughs, and then Lena laughs, and it feels so good, so _normal_ , that Adrian laughs with them. It’s been a long time since he’s shared a moment like this with Deran. 

The moment continues on their drive to the pier for ice cream, and when they sit on a bench while Lena pets a stranger’s dog and the dog licks at her ice cream cone. It’s nice. Easy. _Simple_. Adrian’s afraid to say anything for fear the moment will end.

Deran cocks his head and watches his niece. “Is she gonna get sick if she eats that?”

Adrian glances at Lena and her new friend and the half-eaten cone. “They say dog’s mouths are cleaner than humans’…”

Deran laughs, his gaze fixed on the waves a hundred yards in front of them. “How’s your shoulder feeling?”

“Better.” Adrian studies Deran’s face, trying to figure out where this is going.

“Think you’re ready to paddle out again?”

The past two weeks have been the longest Adrian’s gone without surfing and he still might not be ready, but surfing with Deran isn’t an opportunity he’ll pass up. Even when he hated him, the waves couldn't keep them apart. This second chance won’t really start until they go out there together.

“I’m ready to try.”

Deran smiles at him, a bright, brilliant smile that Adrian can’t help returning. He doesn’t care that they’re becoming the kind of people that make googly eyes at each other in public. It’s been years since he was allowed to feel this way. He’s holding on for as long as he can.

“You ever been surfing?” Deran asks Lena when she comes back covered in dog spit and ice cream. 

“I’m not allowed in the water without my floaties.”

“So many rules!” Deran says, but his voice is light and his words without heat. Lena just shrugs and finishes what’s left of her dessert.

Adrian wipes off Lena’s hands while Deran tosses the trash and Lena babbles the entire way home about how excited she is to learn how to surf. They pick up a baby board from Adrian’s shop and floaties from the 24 hour Walgreens and Deran reads Lena a story while Adrian lays out protein bars they can eat during their early morning drive.

Deran crawls into bed naked and exhausted, but not too worn out not to kiss Adrian goodnight. “I never thought I’d be too tired for sex.” 

Adrian laughs. “Welcome to adulthood.”

“I think I want to go back to being a kid.”

Once, Adrian thought the same. He liked that Deran, fell in love with that Deran. But that Deran became a man that broke him over and over again and no matter how hard it is now, Adrian never wants to see that man again.

“I like you the way you are now.”

Deran rolls over so they’re facing each other, so his mouth brushes the slightest bit over Adrian’s. “I think I’m falling in love with you. I’m not really sure what that means, but I think that’s what this is.”

Adrian strokes a hand through Deran’s hair. “Then it’s good you have me to show you.”

He didn’t say the words, not exactly, but he thinks Deran understands. His mouth is gentle and his hands are tender and when Deran slips inside him, Adrian feels like he’s never letting go.

 

* * *

 

**Saturday**

 

* * *

 

Deran carries a sleepy Lena to the car while Adrian packs the gear, music blaring as they head to the pier. 

It’s just past dawn, the hazy kind of morning that Adrian loves, but there’s nothing today that reminds him of Belize. There’s Lena’s laughter as she plays in the waves and the trust in her eyes when he teaches her how to stand on her board. She doesn’t last longer than a few seconds and comes up sputtering water, but she’s still laughing, and it feels so good to see her happy that Adrian laughs with her.

It’s even better when he feels Deran’s eyes on him, standing sentry on the beach while the two people he cares about most play in the surf.

Lena tries a few more times but she’s only seven and it’s still early morning and when she tugs on his hand to return to the sand, Adrian doesn’t protest. She curls into his lap and closes her eyes but Adrian keeps his gaze fixed on the slow rise of the sun into the sky. He forgets, with all the other things complicating his life, how beautiful it can be.

Deran lays down next to him and runs a hand over Lena’s hair. “You’re good with her. I couldn’t do this without you, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” 

Deran's hand slips from Lena's head to rest on Adrian's wrist, his thumb stroking over the pulse point beating there. His breath catches as he memorizes the moment and stores it away.

One day, Baz is going to wake up and Smurf is going to come for what she thinks she’s owed. But not today.

The sun is warm on his shoulders and the waves are a soothing melody. Adrian sits next to the man he loves, Lena’s soft, warm weight in his lap, and watches the start of a new day.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been bopping around in my head since the season two finale, and I'm excited to have finally seen it to fruition! Also, please disregard any medical inaccuracies associated with Baz's coma and Adrian's dislocated shoulder. I'm sure there are many, but I'm chalking them up to artistic liberties. Title courtesy of Explosions in the Sky. Enjoy.


End file.
